Crimson Earth: The Journal of Himura Yukina
by Ite no Yuki
Summary: A personal perspective on Sanosuke and Kenshin's relationship and the everyday life in the dojo after the Revenge Arc through the eyes of Himura Yukina. YAOI, and crossover with Card Captor Sakura and Getbackers.
1. Overture

Just a few words...  
  
This series is a personal perspective on Sanosuke and Kenshin's relationship and the everyday life in the dojo after the Revenge Arc through the eyes of Himura Yukina.  
  
It is also important to note that these stories are **YAOI** in nature, so if our dear reader is really not into that avenue, a quiet and calm exit is highly advised.  
  
This happens few years after the Rurouni Kenshin timeline; basically it has already evolved into an AU piece, since God only knows what exactly happened after the series ended (OVA not included. I wanted to veer away from that sad ending...) However, I do I try to be as "historical" as possible.  
  
Also on another note, I've always thought that **CROSSOVERS** were inevitable. I've drooled over so many yaoi pairings, so its no surprise if I drop them in occasionally, though this still is Rurouni Kenshin-centric.  
  
All characters that you don't recognize belong to me, hence all others belong to their respective owners or to themselves. I play, you read, we're all happy :D  
  
Also posted at my LJ: itenoyuki 


	2. Papa and Otousan

**Crimson Earth:**  
The Journal of Himura Yukina

**_Saisho no Peji_**

_  
  
Natsu, 1903_

Otousan always said that life had a way of turning out for the best; that storms had to end sometime after drowning out the land, but the sun will always break through the storm clouds and give back the earth its colors.

Maybe it was the way that he said it: so hopeful, so heartfelt, and always with a smile grazing his fair, scarred face that made it a little too... ideal. I was amused, for the most part. I really didn't mean to find it so funny; I guess it was just his way of telling me to brighten up whenever I needed to.

I've always looked up to my father for that. His intristic ability to lighten anyone's spirit is astounding; he needs only to step into a room to chase the shadows away. So whenever I needed a smile, all I had to do was run to him and he'd share his smile with me. And we'd be happy.

I remember Sano-papa had said otousan hadn't always been this way. For some reason, I knew that right from the moment I could think for myself, and I believed it completely. I knew that there's more to that calmness my father always wraps himself in, and it was definitely more than just a reflection of the Zen he was always practicing.

But when I asked otousan what Sano-papa meant by what he said, guess what... he just smiled and gave me a gentle pat on the head and said that I need not know about it, at least not yet. He explained that these were happy times; it does us no good to dwell in the past.

I never really felt disappointed about being left in the dark after that.

And thanks to otousan, I never quite knew what loneliness or sadness exactly was.

Himura Kenshin is not really my father -- at least not in a biological sense. Though I bear the Himura family name, I'm not exactly his flesh and blood. Nor is Sano-papa -- or anyone else in the dojo for that matter. And if you're asking, I don't feel bad about it at all. I don't feel any different from other kids who have a family of their own. Besides, I never thought of myself as 'normal' anyway, considering that my entire life was destined for a different path, but instead ended up where another had entirely lead me to the Kamiya dojo. And how.

It doesn't bother me, though, nor will it ever. It never has in my whole nineteen years, so why now?

In fact, it made me feel unique.

I was given the name 'Yukina' after the circumstances in which I came (literally stormed in, really). Kenshin-tousan told me how he and Sano-papa found me on their way home by the side of the river one snowy December night, crying my lungs out and almost half-frozen with only a tattered blanket to keep me warm. And when they took me home, how the whole dojo was like hit by a storm... and especially how Kaoru-neesan almost hit the roof when she realized how serious otousan was about keeping me.

Not that she minded. Startled her most of all.

When I was younger, I would ask 'tousan to tell me the story about the baby in the snow again and again when it was time for bed, and through the years I came to understand that I was that baby, and that I was not at all 'unwanted'; that in truth, I was a blessing. I was Yukina of the Snow.

Sano-papa had told me that he had wanted my name to be 'Kaede' instead of being named after something so cold and potentially dreadful. "Maple", he said. He never really told me why he wanted it, he just did. Megumi-sensei would recall how Sano-papa didn't have a chance with the others as they debated on my name, and I would laugh at how Yahiko-niisan mercilessly teased him about being outnumbered and stupid until Sano-papa's ears turned red.

As usual, I would come to his rescue, defending my papa's intellect, and Yahiko-baka and I always ended up bickering like two-year-olds not even Kaoru-neesan's flying slippers could stop.

Once in a while, though, Papa would still call me his "Kae-chan" when no one was listening. And that made me feel ever more special.

I can hear Kaoru-neesan calling; it's finally time for supper. I sure hope otousan cooked this time! Oh no... if he did, I had better hurry! A second too late for me and Sano-papa and Yahiko-baka wouldn't have left a speck of food on the table even for the pigeons to pick! 

They had better not touch anything yet or else I'll **KILL **them!

o.O.o

After dinner, I went out to the porch to bask in the afterglow of having a full stomach, courtesy of an exceptionally delicious meal prepared by otousan. Tonight was a full moon, and everything in the garden was surreal, like luminous spirits were dancing atop leaves, rocks, and the silent rippling waters of the pond.

I propped myself up the wall in the far corner of the house's façade, where shadows met every night, and sighed contentedly. The spot offered a picturesque view of the whole back yard: the pond, the stone garden just beyond the cobbled path that led to the bath, and the dojo itself looming in the background. Life couldn't have gotten any better.

And that was when I caught a glimpse of my otousan; in the darkness, his bright red hair was like a beacon that drew wandering glances wherever it appeared, and although streaked with a little gray at some parts, it was still as vibrant as ever. When I was younger, I was fascinated with his hair, how it slid like fire through my little fingers. As the years drawled by, it grew longer and I always had something to play with when my hands became idle.

He was sipping tea then, when Sano-papa came in with his gruff and clumsy elegance that always seemed to ripple otousan's calm waters and sat down beside him. As always, my father cuddled onto the taller man and they sat there -- if not engaged in conversation, then in affectionate silence. On some nights, I could have sworn that otousan would make little excuses just for papa to come out and hold him.

I didn't think they even noticed me, then again I don't mind. That was their time. And they were happy. I felt that in my father's ki, which was very strong -- it all the more seemed to magnify whenever papa was around him, and vice versa.

I remember Kaoru-neesan telling me that it hadn't always been like that. There was a time when papa had to go away. Then, a year later, otousan left as well. Another two years crawled by before papa finally came home... and astonishingly, with otousan -- sick and helpless in his arms.

"He was a ghost," so nee-san said. "A spirit still trapped in a body that refuses to die."

A few months passed and, thankfully, otousan got back his health under the unyielding vigilance of the whole household. His spirit was just as fiery as before, but his body was not as strong as it used to be. Nobody knew what it was -- everybody hazaarded a guess that it was from years and years of battle, that his fate had finally caught up with him. Then again nobody questioned more than what they were not ready to know.

Despite everything however, Sano-papa was the one constantly there by his side the whole time. He would throw a nasty, bone-breaking, asphyxiating fit if anybody persuaded him to leave otousan for even a minute. Nee-san quipped that she had even been jealous of papa then, (at this point, the image of a very vindictive shinai-weilding nee-san couldn't leave my mind. Hell hath no fury than Kaoru scorned indeed) as he fought fiercely for monopoly of otousan's bedside.

Kenshin-tousan slowly regained his old, peaceful self again. Nobody knew exactly what brought him back: Megumi-sensei's healing genius or Sano-papa's constant presence. Either which, I'm glad that he is here now.

And that was about the time when, one December night, they came across a baby near the river...

Neesan said that the years before they found me were riddled with uncertainty, sadness, and loss, and the only way to survive them was to look forward to happier days.

I believe those days have come.

When I saw how my papa wrapped himself lovingly around otousan, who in turn purred contentedly in that warm embrace, I couldn't agree more.

Maybe this was one of my father's philosophies at work: life would turn out for the best?

I'd say it most definitely did. For Nee-san, Yahiko-baka, and even for Megumi-sensei and her two charges: Ayame-san and Suzume-san... But most especially for otousan -- who loved life and sit on the porch... and Sano-papa who always sat beside him.

And they were finally happy.

TBC... __

_  
  
__Revised:_ October 20, 2004 1:23am

o.O.o****

**  
  
Author's Notes:**

Just a quick one. I've been toying around the idea about seeing Sano and Kenshin's relationship in a different perspective, so here it is. It's a bit cliché, but hey, it's a start. I'm still thinking if I should just cut off the idea about it being a journal, and just post this as a stand-alone; then again, I'd leave so many plot holes that I won't have a choice but do a multi-chapter fic. Unless of course I'd just explain everything in the start, deshoo? Demo, that wouldn't be fun, now would it? grin

...and yes, there is a plot there somewhere.

_Revision notes: _I've seriously screwed up with the timeline, so I revised some parts to coincide with the timeline I had in mind. I'm still debating whether I should include the year of the Revenge arc or not, or just base the whole thing on the anime and take off from the year they came back to Tokyo. Come to think of it, the Revenge arc finished in the same year so there's virtually no difference ;;; I'm trying to figure things out.

The Revenge arc concluded in late 1879, just a few months after the Kyoto arc. I'm still not sure of this, but let's just say that I've been granted artistic license by the King of Gondor and I can screw it up anytime I please; it is, after all, my fic. KIDDING! :D I haven't read the manga either that's why I'm not completely sure of this; I'll have to get back to you on that.

Anyway, if our assumptions are correct -- and the timelines are in order -- then Kenshin in 1903 (which is approximately the present date for this story) is in his 50's... and Sano in his 40's, but don't fret, dear ones... they're still as gorgeous as ever.

When all else fails and I can't get the compromise I need... bleh...

C&Cs are very much appreciated!


	3. Yukina of the Snow

**Yukina of the Snow**__

_  
  
"Once upon a winter's night, in a village beyond the river, a little seed sprung up from the frozen earth and a little miracle opened her eyes to the world..."  
  
_When I was at the age when children were supposed to be enjoying the blissful world of sweets and fluttering butterflies, I as already throwing Misao-neesan's shuriken around and causing alarming havoc around the dojo. Whenever Misao-neesan and Aoishi-sempai came to visit, I was always more than happy to unpack for them... that way I could whisk away their hidden artillery. I remember Kaoru scolding me for the daily rips in the shoji screens and the heirloom furniture embedded with the metal stars, since I could not be dissuaded to keep my hands on them.  
  
Naturally they were concerned that I would severely injure myself with those weapons, but after a while they were more concerned about the pandemonium that came flying out of my little hands. Not that they could stop me anyway, or so Yahiko told me -- otousan said my tantrums were worse that screens full of holes.  
  
But like any other toddler, I eventually took interest in other sharp and shiny objects. There was more of Misao-neesan's ninja arsenal -- which my natural instinct to gravitate to deadly weapons always led me to (her hiding places were no use at all); Aoshi-sempai's kodachis, which was very useful back then for endless doodling on the dirt courtyard, and some of Yahiko's daggers. I even took special interest in 'tousan's sakabatou if my memory serves me right... Of course, by then they were no longer alarmed that they'd find me slicing my self or the house in two -- for the most part, they were watchful.  
  
It was the spring of my seventh year when they started to teach me the Kamiya Kasshin Ryu, our dojo's pride and life's blood. I found great interest in the arts of the samurai as my father filled me in on bushido, swordsmanship, and anecdotes from a genuine samurai's life. For years to come, I would remember these little lessons and yet still wonder what life my father had led.  
  
He would recount stories of heroism, sacrifice, and reformation over a cup of oocha or shared rice cakes and I, being the sponge that I was, hung on to every word he said. In the end, it was hard to believe that so much hardship and bloodshed could form a nation; that death without mercy can be the catalyst to a new and brighter future, and that the blood of innocents could nourish the soil and bring tears from the heavens to make the land it stained flourish and feed the country to which these innocents have pledged allegiance and have died for.  
  
How could men and women choose to slaughter themselves in the name of right or wrong... which there never was in the first place?  
  
Papa said, while running a loving thumb across the infamous scar on 'tousan's cheek, that 'tousan was at the crossroads of it all, just like that scar. I never had a full grasp of this concept, though. I was only a child after all.  
  
But he also said that we didn't have to fight anymore. "Then why do I have to learn the Kamiya Kasshin Ryu, papa?" I asked him.  
  
"For you to learn the virtue of life and mercy." He said.__

_  
  
tbc... _


	4. The Arrow and His Rabbit

_Aki, 1894._

I was ten years old when I was first initiated into the realm of the archer. Really, the opportunity just came strolling past me while I was studying calligraphy with Sakura-chan and her father, Fujitaka-sensei, in their home that warm, breezy afternoon.  
  
"Sakura-chan, I think I'm in love." I had blurted out, distracted from the four disciplines of fire.  
  
She looked at me and grinned. "Ah, Yukito-san."  
  
"Eh?"  
  
"Yukito. His name is Tsukishiro Yukito. He's seventeen years old and he's the nicest boy on the planet!" Stars seemed to shine in her eyes; it was comical.  
  
I looked back thoughtfully at the boy -- Tsukishiro-kun, was it? -- who just came into the room with Sakura's brother. There was something about him… I couldn't put my finger on it. Obviously, I wasn't a toddler anymore and yet I was still gravitating to shiny albeit not so dangerously sharp objects.

But then his smile could do more danger than any blade could…  
  
"Ah, Touya-kun, Yukito-kun! I see you're back early. I take it that practice went well?" Fujitaka-sensei greeted from behind his desk.  
  
"Yes otousan, and this rabbit here could have been a little less perfect in his aim, as always." Touya-kun teased, ruffling a head of silver hair.  
  
"Ara, you give me way too much credit than I deserve, To-ya!" Tsukishiro-kun giggled, trying to hide a blush with the pretense of fixing his round spectacles.  
  
Hmm… that's interesting.  
  
Then, Touya-kun looked sharply at our direction. It was like being doused with cold water whenever he did that. However, I was already used to his frosty glares by then; it wasn't personal, it was just the way Touya-kun was. Not many people get to see that softer side of the eldest of the Kinomoto siblings. He was famous for being serious and anti-social, but he was also good at almost anything and everything. As a Kendo student in the Kamiya dojo, his only possible rival was Yahiko-niisan and that was to say a lot. They learned from the best, of course, but I knew Kenshin-otousan was -- and will ever be -- the finest swordsman that ever lived. Then again, he was an exception and I'm obviously biased.  
  
Another look at Touya-kun and I saw the cheeky little spark in his blue eyes that belied his attempt at being stern.  
  
"Oi kaijuu," he said tonelessly as he thumbed towards the direction of the kitchen. "You're in charge of dinner tonight; get moving."  
  
I almost laughed when Sakura's face instantly turned vindictive and defiant.  
  
"Mou, kaijuu ja nai! Whenever are you going to get that through your thick head?" she snarled, but the moment was short lived when she caught Tsukishiro-kun politely trying to suppress his mirth. I could have sworn she turned a few interesting shades of red and sighed -- "hanyaaan", was it? -- dreamily.  
  
Their bickering was legendary. It reminded me of Yahiko-niisan and myself (although he's older than me, I had full authority to whip him, that idiot).  
  
"Well hello there, little lady. That's quite some work you got there."  
  
A pale face peered over my shoulder, and the instant I turned, I was met with the clearest amber eyes I've ever seen.  
  
"Yukito-san, this is Himura Yukina. She's our neighbor and the best in otousan's calligraphy class." Sakura supplied cheerfully.  
  
My cheeks burned. "Sakura-chan!"  
  
Yukito turned thoughtful. "Himura? As in Himura Kenshin?"  
  
"Hai, Kenshin-san no musume desu."  
  
I could only afford a meek smile as their attention turned back to me. "H-hajimemashite, Tsukishiro-kun…"  
  
"Yoroshiku onegaishimasu, Yukina-chan! Ara, do you realize that we even have the same nicknames?" a cheerful smile spread across his face. I felt a hanyaan coming. No wonder.  
  
"Ne, Yuki," Touya-kun called, both of us looking up. An amused eyebrow shot up and a lopsided grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "You are staying for dinner, right?"  
  
"Of course, To-ya! But I don't wish to intrude any more than I already have…" Tsukishiro-kun replied. I turned away sensing that the discussion was only between the two of them.  
  
"Silly rabbit, I already know that. And -you- know you're always welcome here," I heard him say. The edge of the table suddenly became very interesting… "I was talking about Yukina."  
  
"Are?"  
  
"Yeah, Yukina-chan, we're having tempura tonight, you're favorite!" then she leaned in conspiratorially. "Besides, Yukito-san will be here."  
  
Actually, it gave me one more excuse to embarrass myself.  
  
"I'm sure your fathers wouldn't mind, Himura-kun," Kinomoto-sensei affirmed.  
  
They all looked at me expectantly, and Tsukishiro-kun offered me the best of his encouraging smiles (which I felt then was to be my undoing).  
  
"A-alright, I'll go and ask them now then," I said, starting to clear up my workplace.  
  
One more look at Tsukishiro-kun and my resolve strengthened ten-fold.  
  
Yeah, I didn't think my fathers would mind.

**o.O.o **

I had often wondered why I haven't even met Tsukishiro-kun earlier. The Kinomoto's have been our neighbors for years, and I've stayed for dinner once in a while, but I've never seen him before that night.  
  
Sakura then explained that Tsukishiro-kun had just recently moved in to our village a couple of months ago from Kyoto. His parents had died and he came to live with his grandparents a few blocks from their house. She also said that he was Touya-kun's classmate in his archery class, and that they've been friends ever since. She even quipped that the first time she met him was the day she was sure she had already found the love of her life.  
  
"Ne, Sakura-chan, your brother and Tsukishiro-kun are really good friends."  
  
"What makes you say that, Yuki?"  
  
I nodded in their direction. "They're really close, aren't they?"  
  
She turned her attention to the two boys. We were on our way home from the marketplace and had just finished buying more inks for our calligraphy class, when we met Touya-kun and Tsukishiro-kun on their way home and decided to come with us for some snacks.  
  
Currently, Touya-kun was wiping a crumb of takoyaki from the corner of Tsukishiro-kun's mouth.  
  
"You're such a slob, Yuki."  
  
"Well, sometimes…"  
  
Sakura's smile turned to a knowing grin. "So you noticed, too,"  
  
"Noticed?"  
  
She turned back to me and took a bit of her rice cake. "Well, Yukito-san is onii-chan's -best friend- after all."  
  
Something about how she said it didn't sit well with me at all. I knew she could tell that the wheels in my head were turning.  
  
"Oh, you know…"  
  
"No, I don't think I do, Sakura-chan."  
  
Her expression turned thoughtful. "Well, let's just say that onii-chan and Yukito-san have what your fathers have: they share something special."  
  
Oh THAT. Come to think of it, it does make sense. How else could you explain the affectionate pat on the head, the two hands "discreetly" linked together, and the constant blush on Tsukishiro-san's face when Touya would teasingly tell him something? And what about the nicknames?  
  
Just like Sano-papa and Kenshin-'tousan…  
  
"Men -- I don't think I'll ever understand them." Sakura sighed wistfully, taking another bite of her rice cake.  
  
I think I already have. "You will, Sakura-chan. You will."

**o.O.o**

The crisp resonance of the bowstring echoed clearly in the air, and the arrow, sure and true, pierced the target with a dull thud.  
  
"Sugoi!" I said and clapped my hands in awe.  
  
"Anou… just lucky, I guess..." Yukito-san said sheepishly.  
  
"Isn't he the best?" Sakura murmured dreamily beside me.  
  
"I'll say," I replied.  
  
Then it was Touya-kun's turn, taking his place where Yukito-san had stood moments before. After a few seconds of preparation, he took aim and released his own arrow. It landed right beside Yukito-san's.  
  
"You're really good at this, To-ya!" Tsukishiro-kun exclaimed, appraising Touya-san's work embedded on the makeshift target they've set up for practice a few good meters away from the porch in the dirt courtyard.  
  
"Your brother and Yukito-san are eye-to-eye in this, huh?" I said.  
  
Sakura grinned. "You should have seen onii-chan when he started. His arrows went right over the wall."  
  
In a second, Touya-san was glowering above us. "What was that, kaijuu?"  
  
Sakura squeeked. "Anou… betsuni…"  
  
"Hmph… at least I wasn't the one we all had to run for our lives from because she couldn't get her arrows anywhere near the target…" her brother retaliated, a triumphant sneer plastered on his face.  
  
Smoke came right out of Sakura's ears. "I wasn't THAT bad! You're so mean! Touya no baka!!!"  
  
As their bickering went on, all I could do was sit quietly and watch.  
  
"To-ya and his sister-complex," I heard Tsukishiro-kun say.  
  
I laughed. "No doubt about that."  
  
I heard the crisp shuffle of his hakama. "Ne, Yukina-chan… have you ever tried Kyudo before?" he asked.  
  
I shook my head. "No…"  
  
"I see. But I hear you're good with a shinai," He said with a wink. My cheeks burned and he must have seen it. "Sakura told met that."  
  
Oh she was going to get it.  
  
"It would not be surprising, though, considering you've had the best education from the master himself."  
  
I suddenly thought about Yahiko-niisan. Tsukishiro-san couldn't possibly be talking about him, although he was the one who taught me the actual techniques. It was otousan who guided me and corrected my mistakes while he sat on the porch and watched my progress, and would occasionally give me a hand.  
  
"I'm glad you see my father that way, Tsukishiro-san." I bowed my head in gratitude.  
  
He smiled and bowed back. "He deserves nothing less. And Yukina-chan," he added. "I think we're past all formalities by now, so you should call me by my name, ne?"  
  
I was taken aback. Not so many people would allow anyone to call them so intimately after only encountering them three brief times.  
  
"Alright, Yukito-san," I said, trying to sound as confident with this new familiarity as I could. Though I failed at it miserably, he did a good job at being naïve about it.  
  
"Yokatta!" He reached out his hand to me. "Well then, shall we start on your first archery lesson?"  
  
"Are?" Well, I didn't saw that coming. "Are you serious?"  
  
"Absolutely." He firmly replied, eyes twinkling in the afternoon sun. Now how could I refuse that?  
  
Seeing that Sakura-chan and her brother was still trying to get at each other's necks, I took Yukito-san's offered hand and allowed him to guide me to where they took aim. He handed met the bow and a new arrow (which was generally too large for me, but he did instruct me to compensate the difference with my stance and grip) and stood a step back and explained how the art of traditional Japanese archery worked.  
  
Apparently, there were eight fundamental stages in shooting called the "Hassetsu". He demonstrated them at first in one fluid process then told me to imitate him.  
  
"It's like a dance, really," he said as I followed his movements. "It regulates your breathing and relaxes you before you release the arrow, which is also of course a part of the choreography."  
  
The first step was "dozukuri", or correcting the posture which is the initial stance. Then "yugamae", or readying the bow. This was also made of three steps: the "torikake" (or setting the glove, which I didn't have, but he made me do the movement anyway). Then there's the "tenouchi" or the correct way of gripping the bow, then "monomi" wherein the archer views and evaluates the target. It was also a method of sending the spirit to the target before shooting while the eyes should be half closed (Yukito-kun looked so good while he did it!).  
  
"Okay, now the next step is called 'uchiokoshi'. This is where you raise the bow like this," he instructed, raising his hands with the imaginary equipment. I followed his lead. "Make sure your bow is raised perfectly straight -- yeah, that's right -- and the arrow held parallel to the floor. Not so high, just a little above your head -- there. Okay, that's great. Now relax, Yukina-chan, and keep your feet flat on the floor stretched forward towards the bow."  
  
The next step was "hikiwake", or drawing the bow. It was a bit too difficult because the string was too tight! Good thing Yukito-kun stepped behind me and helped me with my posture. He faintly smelled of peaches on a spring harvest.  
  
"If 'hikiwake' is the physical draw, then 'kai' is the spiritual complement." He said, instructing me of the next movement. It wasn't movement, really, but more of a meditation.  
  
"Now, you're about to release the arrow; count slowly to eight before releasing. Make sure your grip is firm because the arrow at its release may create a backlash. That may send you back a few steps and cause your arrow to go astray," He whispered close to my ear. "And when you release the arrow, remember that there's still the 'zanshin' and the 'yudaoshi'. Remember the last moves I showed you? That's when you send forth your ki even after the arrow has hit its target, then lower your bow, keeping your eye on that mark and slowly lower your hands to your side." He stepped away from me and demonstrated this again with his hands and the correct movement of the feet.  
  
"You ready?" he asked, stepping back further.  
  
I took a deep breath. "Hai!"  
  
I went through all the stages he taught me, and I realized that it was like a dance, similar to the Kamiya Kashin Ryu they taught me back at home, no less graceful and precise.  
  
I summoned everything Yukito-san taught me and all the principles my previous trainings have imbued in me to this one arrow that lay nocked between my fingers.  
  
'Send for your spirit. The point is not to see the target but to be the target…'  
  
SWOOSH!  
  
In a second, it was over. I was standing there on the porch, my two feet firmly planted on the shiny wooden floor, the bow tucked neatly beside me. My mind was a blank, and the thrumming of my heart echoed in my ears.  
  
An enthusiastic clapping of hands shook me awake. "Eh… sugoi, Yukina-chan!"  
  
"Wow… even I couldn't hit that mark when I started." It was Touya-kun talking; he was standing beside me.  
  
I let my mind clear for a while before I had a good view of my handiwork. There it was, my arrow neatly embedded between the thin margin between the red and white circles.  
  
"You sure you've never handled a bow and arrow before?" Touya-kun asked.  
  
A fierce blush spread across my cheeks. "Iie… never."  
  
"And it doesn't seem to be a fluke either, To-ya. You should have seen how she went through the Hassetsu," Yukito-san supplied, smiling. "Not many people get it so perfectly… not even the first couple of times!"  
  
"Wai! That's incredible, Yuki-chan! You're a natural!" Sakura almost squealed, slinging her arm around my shoulders.  
  
To my surprise, Touya-kun ruffled my hair, sending a deeper blush raging across my face. "Maybe you could teach a certain kaijuu here how it's really done, ne?"  
  
I could sense another bout of fierce sibling dynamics about to commence. "Well..."  
  
"Kaijuu ja nai, you mean, peevish, one-eyed ghoul!"  
  
"Hah! So speaks the mad little glutton who eats like an ogre!"  
  
"I swear, when I get bigger I'll enjoy squishing you with my foot!"  
  
"Fat chance, monsters don't grow any taller than you do!"  
  
"Oh dear..." I sighed.  
  
Yukito giggled. "Sister-complex."  
  
I couldn't agree more. "They get better at it every time."  
  
"I HEARD THAT!" Both brother and sister snarled.__

_  
  
tbc..._


End file.
